Free Invisible Terror Collection by Bill Myers

turned.
    “I will be starting at eight. Your friends are also invited.” Becka looked at her and nodded.
    **********
    3:34 p.m.
    “I still don’t get why you were there,” Ryan said as he slipped a microfilm into the machine and snapped on the switch. The light came on and the fan whirred quietly. “You’re the one who said she was evil.”
    “I … I might have been wrong,” Becka answered. “She’s only trying to help. When you think about it, aren’t we really both fighting on the same side? For the little girl?” Ryan looked up at her from the machine. His expression made it clear that he had his doubts. Come to think of it, so did she.
    Without a word he directed his attention back to the screen, and then started to adjust the microfilm as he said, “The more I’ve been thinking about what you said about the Bible, the more this whole thing’s been bugging me.”
           Becka looked on, waiting.
    “I mean, you’re right. Either the Bible’s true or it isn’t. So I got here early this morning and started going through the newspa-pers again.” At last he had the microfilm lined up. “Take a look at this.”
    Becka leaned over and read the headline: “Hawthorne Hill: Site of Holy Rituals.”
    She glanced to Ryan, who nodded for her to continue reading. It was a 1988 interview with an older Native American from the area. He spoke of having hunted and fished in various loca-tions that were now parts of the city. A few paragraphs later he spoke of Hawthorne Hill, the location of the mansion:
    “It had always been a sacred place. Our grandfathers, our great-grandfathers, and their fathers before them practiced their magic on that hill. It was a place of strong power.
    Spirits frequently appeared. Even as children we knew this was no place to play.”
    Becka came to a stop. She did not have to read further.
    Ryan spoke quietly. “There were things happening on that hill long before Juanita was ever murdered there. Probably centuries before.”
    Becka nodded.
    Ryan continued, “So what we saw in that house …” Becka finished the phrase for him: “… may not have been the girl’s ghost, but one of those evil spirits.” Ryan looked at her a long moment and then slowly nodded.

Chapter 7
    5:45 p.m.
    Becka looked out the car window at the passing houses. “I just wish there was somebody I could run all this stuff past. With Mom gone and Scotty playing Rambo, there’s nobody.”
    “What about Z?” Ryan asked as he eased the Mustang around another corner.
    Becka glanced at her watch. “Z usually doesn’t come online till nine. The séance will already be going.” Ryan gave a heavy sigh. “I still don’t think you should go.” Becka glanced at him. Her heart fluttered, moved by his constant concern for her. Who else would spend all Friday morning in the library trying to prove her right and himself wrong … just to make sure she would be safe? Ryan was a treasure. One she hoped never to lose.
    She looked back out the window. “If I don’t go, will that stop Julie and the others from showing up?”
    “No way, they’re making it a major event.”
    “And it sure won’t stop the Ascension Lady. If I don’t show, who knows what will happen to her.”
           “But she’s your enemy.”
    Becka looked back to him. “She’s trying to do right; she’s just all mixed up. Besides, even if she was my enemy — ”
    “I know, I know,” Ryan interrupted. “ ‘Love your enemies.’ ” He threw her a mischievous grin. “I’ve been doing my reading.” Becka laughed. “But do you believe it?” Her comment carried a double meaning. She wasn’t just asking if he believed in a Bible verse. For several weeks he’d been flirting with making a commitment to Christ, and for several weeks he’d been reading the Bible, trying to decide.
    He looked over to her and quietly answered. “I’m almost there, Beck. Just give me a little more time.” Becka nodded. She wouldn’t rush him. Even